


All the love songs have been written

by SharpestRose



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-01
Updated: 2011-07-01
Packaged: 2017-10-20 21:52:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/217455
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SharpestRose/pseuds/SharpestRose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He'd defeated the moon for nothing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All the love songs have been written

To sleep, perchance to dream...

The Bronze was mostly empty by that time of night, a few couples slowdancing to the song playing. One of the sweet, soft, girly singers Willow liked so much. She inhaled, her face buried in the crook of his neck. He was wearing that faded used-to-be-indigo Beck t-shirt that she'd bought him, and a salmon-colored overshirt printed with little cowboys.

"I wish this moment would never end." She whispered. He knew exactly how she felt, and breathed in her scent. Had she always smelt like that, even before he'd gotten wolfy-senses? Yes, she had, but a monochrome version of the one he felt like he was drowning in now. So many colors, her smell. A little sweat, because they'd walked uphill that afternoon after school. Her shampoo. Woodshavings, she'd been sharpening pencils. Another smell, Oz's brow furrowed as he tried to place it. No, don't think about that. Just dance. As long as you keep dancing, the moment will never end.

But it was too late. The world was changing around them. Her smell changed slightly, the sticky scent of ink replacing the comforting woodshavings, the sweat smell deepening, not girlsweat but that of a woman, flushed and excited. Willow's frame seemed to shrink in his hands as he kept his face buried in her hair, refusing to comprehend. No. The moment wasn't supposed to end. And the other smell, the one he wasn't going to think about. Now the Bronze smelt different, as well. Not as familiar. Other teenagers hanging out at the tables that had been their special places, younger faces that he didn't recognise. Even the texture of her hair changed, not as full and sleek, now.

But Oz ignored it, and kept dancing. The music, wistful and sad, played on as if the song was never going to end. They moved, body to body, slow and calm, dancing together. Forever. This moment was going to go on forever. He wouldn't let it end. He was supposed to show her the moon, wasn't he? Look, I'm fixed now, no reason to fear. They had to go look at the moon. But he wasn't going to stop dancing, not for all the world.

"C-can I cut in?" a quite, trembling voice asked, and Oz froze, his blood turning to ice. No. This was how it ended. The music ended with a final, haunting note, and everything was silent.

"There's no more music." Willow told him, moving away from the place where her body had fit just right. "All the songs have been written, don't you see?"

He wanted to tell her she was wrong, that there were still so many songs to be written, but it was a lie, because he wasn't a musician anymore, and the rest was silence.

Then he was alone, and the blonde girl was in his place, with his Willow's face buried in her hair, and his Willow's arms around her waist. It was supposed to last forever. That had been his only lifeline, when he was learning how to control this destructive terrible part of himself. That it was going to last forever, that he could come back and fit just right in her arms, with her smell and her breath and her, her, her. If he couldn't have faith in that, what could he believe?

He'd defeated the moon for nothing.

Every night, it was the same dream, and he could never stop the ending. Forever never lasted long enough. But every night, as he drifted off and began to hear that song that Willow liked so much, playing in a little club miles and miles in the past, he hoped that this time he could. That the moment would last forever. If he couldn't have faith in that, what could he believe, after all?

  



End file.
